


Hide and go seek

by Bishmonster



Series: Games children play [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Attempted Murder, Awesome Darcy Lewis, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Dark, F/M, Gen, Graphic Violence, Hydra (Marvel), I WILL FIX IT, Kid Fic, Murder, OOC, Out of Character, Violence, You've been warned, dont worry. they die, hydra goons - Freeform, murder kitten is a new tag, settle down
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-13 14:42:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14750829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bishmonster/pseuds/Bishmonster
Summary: Darcy kid fic. May be too dark for some. Enter at your own risk.





	1. Hide

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't be upset with me.

“Do you want to play a game?” His voice was like melted butter on fluffy pancakes and Darcy’s tummy flipped. Her Daddy only used that voice when he really wanted something, and Darcy wasn’t sure what she had to give or if she wanted to give it.

Although, Daddy always had the best games. Sometimes, Daddy’s games were scary, like when they had to jump off that roof and her stomach stayed in the sky before they landed on another roof. And sometimes, Daddy’s games were painful. She didn’t like curling up in his suitcase at all. It was hot and stuffy and cramped, and it made her butt go to sleep. Pins and needles were for the birds. Plus, the bus had smelled bad. Like grody people and gasoline. But, hide and go seek… Darcy was the best at hide and go seek.

“Of course, Daddy!” she exclaimed. Her voice was too loud. Daddy gave her a stern look. She snapped her mouth shut and toed the dirt with her pink KEDS. There were bits of gray rock in the brown dirt and the earth was hard because it hadn’t rained in a long, long time. Her Daddy said it was because the gods were angry. The gods were always angry about something.

“Remember how to play hide and go seek?” He asked kindly, knowing full well it was her favorite. That sparkle in his eye was encompassing. Darcy could hardly look away from it. Her Daddy was so handsome.

“There is no closet out here Daddy.” She teased. First rule was never to hide in the closet. That’s always the first place they looked. “Are we on a farm? Are there horses here? Can I see one?”

“I’m afraid not Little Girl.” He said in the way that meant she was trying his patience. Darcy was always trying his patience. He squeezed her shoulder and she tried to hide her wince. The steel in his jaw meant she had failed. Unfortunately, Darcy couldn’t side step away until he forgot this time. Daddy’s grip was hurting her real bad. “Remember where your sweet Mama went?”

“Oh yes! She went to live with the angels!” Darcy hoped he’d ease up his hold if she got it right. She was a smart cookie, she was. Her Mama had said it all the time with a wink. Daddy had never said it, but she knew he knew. “too smart for her own good” was pretty close to “smart cookie”

“That’s right honey. She went to live with the blessed angels.” He looked to the sky with a sad smile. “Do you remember how she got there?”

“She had to go into the ground first. Right? I don’t know why though. Daddy, it didn’t make any sense. The angels are up but we put her down.” Darcy could still remember the rain on her face as Daddy dug the hole. Her Mama’s face had been too pale and too still. No smile at all. And she smelled badly, Darcy ignore it and watched the red stain in the middle of her Mama’s stomach spread as the wet hit it. Daddy had changed that day. It was the first time he’d hit her, when he caught her crying. Crying was for babies and she was a big girl now. She had to be strong, because Daddy needed her to be.

“Sometimes things don’t always make sense honey.” He patted her on her dark curls and tweeked her nose. Darcy giggle, more from relief than the tickle. Her Daddy was back to being playful. She liked it when he was playful. “Do you want to see your Mama again?”

“What? Really! Oh My Goodness! That would be wonderful!”

The back hand to her face was not unexpected. She had seen it coming but wasn’t fast enough to duck out of the way. It knocked her to the dirt and the leaves and twigs crunch into the meat of her palms. Her butt hit a large rock and that was so much worse than pins and needles. Darcy didn’t cry out. She knew better. She did bite her lip and her Daddy’s face was blurry with pain and tears when she looked up at him. Whoops. She was too loud again. She would never learn.

“This is a different kind of Hide and Seek.” Her Daddy was back to smiling again like nothing had happened. Darcy struggled to her feet. “This time, I’m going to pick your hiding spot. In fact, I already picked it.”

“Isn’t that cheating?” Darcy raised a brow.

“Don’t you want to see your Mama?” Daddy brushed a twig from her curls.

“More than anything.” Her heart suddenly felt like it was going to burst. Fast like a firecracker.

“Then you’ll play my way.” He led her farther into the woods. It was darker there even though it was the middle of the day. Darcy’s stomach rumbled. He had forgotten to feed her again. She didn’t say anything. She skipped instead. The roots of the trees were growing above the ground and they looked like scary fingers. Darcy jumped on each one and laughed on the inside when she jumped off. Her Daddy let her. He was smiling his true smile. The one she’d only seen when Mama was around and once when he’d found those keys in that silly porch car. 

Their walk wasn’t long.

“That’s a big hole Daddy.” Darcy peered in. “Are there worms in there?”

“Probably, Little Girl.” Her Daddy urged “Go on. It’s not too deep.”

Darcy sat on the edge. Her feet didn’t touch the bottom. Daddy was wrong about how deep the hole was. She wasn’t about to tell him so she jumped and landed with a grunt. Her shoes turned a muddy brown. “How long will it take to get to Mama?” The first clump of dirt fell on her face. She sputtered and protested. “Gross.”

“Don’t complain. You just have to be patient. Your Mama always was shy. Just lay down and wait for her. I promise she will come.” He was grunting and piling dirt on top of her. It smells strange and sticky. Darcy didn’t like it.

“What if she doesn’t remember me?” Darcy whimpered a little when a rock hit her below the eye.

“Oh, I bet she remembers you. Everybody remembers you Little Girl.” Daddy sounded mean when he said it and another clump of dirt landed, this time on her belly. “Just shut your eyes. It won’t take too long.”

Daddy was sometimes a liar. It took a long time before he had even finished covering her body up. So long she got sleepy. Darcy closed her eyes. Her tummy was rumbling, and her legs wanted to get up and run but she had learned to be patient. She was the best at hide and seek and maybe the rules were a little different this time but she was also determined to see her beloved Mama.

 


	2. And

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy makes a new friend

Darcy dreamt of when her Mama was alive. The way the light would come in the windows. The way her mother would sing, terribly and off key to pop radio. Her Daddy would laugh his big laugh and dance. Darcy would clap her hands and giggle. It was a nice little dream. Too short in Darcy’s opinion. Waking up was hard when she couldn’t push the blankets off. And when she did wake, well, things were not looking good.

She couldn’t breathe. And it was dark. Much darker than when it was nighttime, and the stars shined bright. Or the moon made everything look like magic. Darcy didn’t know what time it was, but it didn’t feel like night and she couldn’t breathe, and she couldn’t open her eyes. It was the dirt. Daddy had finished burying her so Mama could come find her. It felt so heavy. Darcy pushed with all her might and her grunt sounded too loud but also like she was under water. 

Suddenly frightened, Darcy panicked and struggled. The dirt was getting in her mouth and she wanted to scream. This game was not fun anymore. This was worse than when she had to spend two whole days in a suitcase and way more scarier than jumping off a building. She couldn’t See. And Darcy hated not being able to see. Darcy wiggled and curled and stretched and tried to push the dirt away with her hands. It was loose enough for her too move but to heavy for her little body to sit up. 

“Mama,” she whispered. Daddy was wrong. There was no way her Mama could find her under all this dirt. She reached up as far as she could and wiggled when she could. The earth shifted. So, she did it again and again and again, pushing with her feet, until she could feel the coolness different from the coldness of the dirt. There was a breeze on her finger tips. Darcy wiggled them in delight and she giggled out loud. Again, she didn’t like the way it sounded so she renewed her efforts. Soon, she was breathing in deep breaths of cool clean air and coughing because it burned her abused lungs. It just felt so good. She laid on her back and panted like a puppy. It made her giggle too. Everything was funny now that she was on top of the dirt. 

“Daddy, that is the wrong way to play Hide and Seek.” She told him. Darcy braced for his response. He might not like what she said. No response came. “Daddy?” she questioned and lifted her head from the ground. She couldn’t see him, so she jumped up and didn’t even bother to brush the dirt from her clothing. 

“Daddy?” she called out. The forest was dark with shade. Darcy turned in a circle, too quick the first time. The second time she tried to slow down. And the third. By the fourth she was dizzy. The trees swayed in her vision. Trees weren’t supposed to do that. The roots coming out of the ground look even more like giant fingers in the low light. “Daddy?” she called out again, searching behind every tree. A part of her thought that maybe this was the game. A new rule he forgot to mention. He did that sometimes when he really wanted to win. Darcy thought it was dumb to come up with new rules in the middle of the game.

She couldn’t find him. He wasn’t anywhere. The woods were only filled with squirrels and dirt. Darcy ran in circles looking and looking until her legs were too tired to carry on. With a huff, she collapsed at the base of the biggest tree and curled up. She was hungry, hungrier than she had been before they got to the woods. And she was getting cold. It was nearly full on dark now. Darcy wasn’t scared of the dark so much as she feared sleeping outside. The woods were full of noises she didn’t recognize and there were no blankets to hide underneath. Darcy didn’t like it one bit.

It seemed the harder Darcy tried to keep her eyes open, the easier it became to let them slide shut. She wasn’t even aware she had slept until she smelled the meat. It smelled so good, her mouth watered. Darcy blinked her eyes open. 

“I didn’t know you knew how to build a fire, Daddy.” Darcy said with delight.

“I’m not your Daddy.” His voice was rough and deep and with a funny accent. 

“Do you know where my Daddy is? Have you seen him?” Darcy knew she wasn’t supposed to talk to strangers. She didn’t care. She didn’t like being alone in the woods more than she wanted to be a good little girl.

“You’re Daddy won’t be coming back.” The man said flatly. He was playing with a knife. The fire made it look like it was glowing. 

“Did he trick me?” Darcy asked, mostly to herself. “He likes to trick people.” She nodded for emphasis. 

“Are you hungry?” The stranger asked. 

Darcy looked at him for a long minute. She knew that game well, her Daddy never liked to answer questions either. Darcy knew if she waited long enough and stayed quiet she’d get her answer. For now, she was hungry. Her tummy was growling something fierce. 

“Yes sir.” She said. “My tummy is like a tiger!” She clawed her hands and rawred. 

“You’re a funny kind of kid.” The man’s accent changed to something more familiar. Like the way the people sounded over the bridge. 

“Your arm is pretty.” Darcy complimented. “Shiny.” The man looked startled for a moment and then his face changed. He looked blank, like a doll as he handed her a piece of meat, dripping with juice. Darcy gobbled it up, not even caring it was still too hot and burning her fingers. It was so yummy! He handed her another piece, watching her like a hawk as she ate. When he seemed satisfied, he nodded and told her to lay down.

“I don’t want to.” Darcy said it quiet like. If the man hit her with his shiny arm, it would hurt a whole lot more than when her Daddy did it. She felt safe in the knowledge he was on the other side of the fire and she would have plenty of time to run away if he started toward her.

“I’ll keep watch.” The man said sternly. “The fire will keep you warm.” Somehow, the way he said it made all the difference in the world. Darcy looked around into the dark woods. Something moved. She tried not to whimper. “Tomorrow I will teach you how to use this knife. But you must go to sleep.”

Darcy’s heart raced with excitement. She was never going to sleep now. 


	3. Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky's decision making skills are compromised

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eeep!!! My browser history tho.

Tiny.

She was tiny. Too small to be alone in the woods. Too small to defend herself from predators. Too tiny to realize exactly what was going on. She still thought her “Daddy” was playing a game. She would never survive with that kind of naiveite. Another tiny, naïve child crossed his confused and cluttered mind. One he had once vowed to protect. It was… hard to remember so he pushed it aside and continued to concentrate on their surroundings.

The mission was incomplete. As it would stay for the time being. Things would get complicated if his handlers were sent to retrieve him. They would not be happy with his distraction. And boy, was she a distraction. Her little voice was light as air and carried. It was what drew him to her. The chattering. She had not been silent for one moment trekking through the woods. Mainly, she sang to herself. Cute little children’s rhymes. He recognized them. Had even known a few. It made him curious. So curious he left his snipe nest. This had not happened before. As far as he knew.

He followed the father and little girl through the woods. Watched as the father tricked his daughter. Waited for the man to finish his task. What he had not anticipated was the coward running. He took one look at the metal arm and the flak vest and nearly wet himself. It would have been comical if laughing was a thing he still knew how to do. It took longer than he expected to chase the father down and slit his throat. The blood got everywhere and clean up was difficult with half damp forest leaves.

She was gone when he got back. He could see where she had dug herself out. Her muddy footprints dancing along the ground and then running away. This time she was silent when she was running through the woods. It wasn’t until she cried out in her sleep that he found her curled up like a kitten and whimpering. Her skin was like ice.

Despite his misgiving, he built a fire. She would not survive without it. Tiny pathetic little kotehok. With her loud belly.

The next morning, he woke her by tapping his boot against her shoe. She was absolutely filthy. Mud turned to dust and flew from her hair. She giggled and shook herself like a dog. Her eyes seemed bluer under all the dirt.

He handed her the knife. Today was her first lesson. “Always this way when handing over.” He held the blade, then flipped it. “Never this way.” He flipped again. She took it with a little frown.

“It’s heavier than it looks.”

“That’s because you are weak. That will change.” He told her. She pouted at him and tried to flip the knife. He caught it before she could cut herself. “Soon, but not yet.”

They walked back to the nest he’d set up to wait in for his target. The target was long gone but his rifle was still there. He packed up, covering up his tracks. The little kotehok was surprisingly patient. She asked a million questions but never complained. He gave her a protein bar for breakfast. She made a funny face but never demanded or whined. She was a good companion.

“What’s your name? I don’t know what to call you.” She sounded worried. “My name is Darcy. Like in the book but I’m not a boy.” She told him. They had walked for a mile before he heard the water. They needed to fill his canteen and she needed to bathe. A child this dirty would surely be memorable.

As the Asset, he didn’t have a name. And she couldn’t call him Soldat. There had once been a name but it’s fragments were hard to grasp. Then there was always the name they whispered around him. “You may call me Zima.”

“That sounds funny!” Darcy pointed and laughed. “That’s an adult soda.”

“Perfect.” He muttered. “Time for a bath.” He gestured to the clear water.

The little kitten looked around dubiously and gave him a fierce frown. “There is no shower here.” She told him, like maybe he didn’t know.

“No, there is no shower, but there is a stream.” He instructed.

“Bears poop there.” She argued.

“Then I suggest you look out for any suspicious looking clumps.” The muscles in his face felt stiff. “And bears.”

“Grody.” Darcy told the water, her face lined with worry. It wasn’t long before she was splashing in the chilly water and laughing at some game she made up. It seemed to involve catching pretend fish. There was no way she had not scared all the real fish away with her noise. Her clothing only seemed to get muddier, so he had her take them off. Something roiled in his stomach when he saw the dark marks on her body that would not wash away with water. He wished for another chance to slit the man’s throat. Zima had inflicted enough bruises to recognize the grip of a hand and the bloom from a knuckle. The kitten didn’t notice his dark mood and continued to sing her silly songs. When her teeth were chattering, and her fingertips wrinkled, he climbed into the water after her and washed that mop of hair.

It was going to have to go but not quite yet.

“I don’t want to.” The little kitten was full on pouting at him. And the knife. And then back to him. His black shirt dwarfed her tiny body. Her bony shoulder was poking out of the neck. He adjusted the shirt to cover her fully.

“You need to learn.” He cajoled. Well, more like commanded, but he tried to say it nicely.

“Why would I need to learn that.” Darcy’s blue eyes got just a little bit bigger and looked watery. Zima tried very hard not to notice. His fist held the rabbit ears tighter. The dead animal made no sound. It was the little girl making the mewling noises.

“Do you remember how hungry you were last night?” He reminded.

“Yes.” She admitted slowly, “I had a tiger in my belly!” The kitten made a rawring sound again.  Zima sighed.

“What did you think you were eating?” He could be patient. He knew how to wait for hours and sometimes years when they messed up and he didn’t go to sleep when they refroze him. One exuberant little girl was not going to get him riled up.

“Chicken!” she wailed. Clearly, she had not realized what she had been eating. The tears were big, fat and clear and it nearly made him throw down their dinner. Zima did not know what was going on in the vicinity of his chest, he only knew that he wanted that face to go away.

“Stop!” he barked out then cursed when she took a big and blatant step back. “Stop crying.” He said as soft as he could. “I won’t hit you Kotehok.”

She blinked at him.

“This time you will learn to clean the rabbit for cooking. Next time you will learn to catch and kill it. Do you understand?”

“But why?” She asked, puzzled.

“I will not always be around. You will learn to survive little kitten.” If he died trying. Not that that was the plan. Not that he had a plan. Soon his handlers would come looking. Soon he would have to leave. She must be ready before that happened. Zima’s intentions were unclear. He didn’t know why he cared, why she drew him to her. His mind felt splintered when he tried to analyze. Pure instinct was driving him. Any sweet kitten who could dig herself out of a grave deserved his expertise and his protection.

“Take the knife, Kotehok.” He demanded gently.

Dubiously and with comical aversion, she grasped her small fingers around the tactical black handle. “I like the way it feels.” Darcy said mostly to herself.

“Good.” He said proudly. She was trying. That was the first step. He had had no doubts. “We will start with the fur and then the front legs. There is not bone connecting them to the body.”

“So very grody.” She accused with a strange small little smile as she took a step closer to him and the dead rabbit.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> according to google.   
> Kotehok - - Kitten  
> Zima - - Winter


	4. Seek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hydra

Hydra came in the night. 

Zima had taken them to a small, run down hotel right at the edge of the woods. He hadn’t wanted the little kitten out in the woods another night. She had developed a cough and the deepness of it worried him. 

He was stupid. Zima was cursing himself as they swarmed him in the parking lot. He should’ve hotwired a car. Jumped on a bus. Ran as far and as hard as he could with her. Barely one day outside of his projected timeline and they were on him. Stupid. Distracted. Dumb. 

“What should we do with her?” Zima heard. They had the shock collar on him and while that wasn’t much of a restraint, however, the device they used to disable his arm was very much a deterrent. Zima didn’t try to struggle. Didn’t protest. He knew better.

“Leave her.” His kitten was out cold with the medicine he’d given her. She had fallen asleep with her head on his thigh while he listened to her lungs. They were clear for now. She just needed rest. Zima had very nearly not heard the soft pad of combat boots on gravel. He met them outside. The crack of a broken neck was loud to him now. The gurgle when his knife met stubbled throat, obscene. Zima was determined to kill them all. 

Failed. He was a failure. On his knees and collared, watching his handler inspect the small child sleeping peacefully on the bed. A blackness hazed around his eyes. He was straining like a dog on a chain. The electricity was a gentle caress compared to the agony of knowing he brought her to them. 

“On second thought…“ the handler said. “she could be very useful.” The handler’s gaze was shrewd. “put her in the van.”

Zima wasn’t sure what happened next. He heard the words but didn’t understand their context. Then blankness. He felt nothing as they loaded their cargo into the unmarked vehicle. He registered nothing when they placed the sleeping child on the floor in front of him. The dead weight of his arm meant nothing. It wasn’t familiar or new. It just was. 

Then she sniffled and rolled over. He stopped her movement with his boot. Kept her still. His little kitten had trouble being still. He would teach her. As soon as he got them out of this mess. Two too blue eyes popped open. She opened her mouth to speak. Nyet. Zima shook his head. Kotehok seemed to understand. Her mouth clamped shut and her eyes narrowed. He pleaded with her to keep still. She was disobedient. The tiny kitten wiggle and rolled until she was under their captors. Zima could not see what she was doing. Sweat dewed under his hair. He stayed as still as possible. 

“What the fuck?” he heard. “is she asleep?”

“She looks asleep.”

“She touched my leg. It’s creepy. Roll her back up.” 

Zima tensed when he felt her small body touch the back of his feet. She patted his ankle. 

Such smart little kitten. 

She climbed up. Swayed, still dressed in his black tee shirt and looking ten kinds of harmless. “Where are we going?” She asked him in a dazed and false little voice. “Why are you all locked up? Who are those men?” No one seemed to notice her slip his knife into his flesh palm. He didn’t answer, and he prayed to all the powers that be she wouldn’t get too scared. His left arm was still unmoving. She was standing next to it braced against the wall of the van. 

“Sit down child. And be quiet.” Said the driver. He was glaring at her. 

“Zima, I don’t like him.” She pouted and plopped down on his left side. She laid her head on his shoulder. It wasn’t until he heard the quiet snick did he realize. He could literally feel each plate coming zinging back to life. Zima was worried the other’s would as well. 

“Ring around the rosey.” She sang just shy of quiet. “Pocket full of posey.”

“Shut up.” Growled the handler. Clearly, he was regretting his decision. 

“Ashes, Ashes” she sang to the small little man. “they all fall down.” Even Zima could admit her sweet voice was creepy in the van full of Hydra. Goosebumps raised on his skin. 

“Kotehok, drop.” He commanded, and the game was on. He took out the one directly behind him first, ignoring the electricity from his collar. There were more important things than the burns on his neck. The knife went into the Hydra goon’s dark eye like it was butter. The two in the back struggled to reach him but were prevented from pulling their legs apart. Kitten had tied their shoelaces together and pride was a thing that showed when he bared his teeth and took out the handler before the he could open his foul mouth. Zima used the next moment to rip the collar from his neck. He threw it at one of the goons in the back to knock him out. The other was still struggling to cut the laces. Zima used his flesh hand to push the cartilage of his nose into his brain. It was a loud sound, even with the chaos of the van, yet satisfying. All that was left was the driver. 

“Cease or I will put a bullet in her brain.” The driver had pulled over, stopping the van. His filthy hands had Kitten’s hair in an unrelenting grip. She didn’t make a noise and her face was impassive. Zima’s chest was doing strange things again. This was unacceptable. He was just about to charge when the man screamed, “little bitch!” pushing his kitten to the floor. She scrambled backwards until she was nearly under the bench seat and behind Zima. Good Kotehok. Smart.

The driver was clutching his leg, she had buried a knife in the meat of his thigh. Convenient because Zima had left his knife in the chest of the last guy. Ripping the blade out made another scream and a wet sound, blood probably, or the man pissed himself. Zima didn’t care. The knife was dull. It took more effort to cut the man’s throat. 

Everything seemed unnaturally quiet. Just his breathing. Hard through the nose. His skin felt itchy, but it was probably just the after effects of the electricity from the collar and the drying blood of Hydra. Kitten was deadly silent. He wasn’t entirely sure she wasn’t hurt. He leant down.

“I’m sleepy.” She told him nonplussed. Her face was dirty again. This time with blood. She didn’t look like she was about to cry. However, Zima was taking no chances. He picked her up and jumped out of the van. It was the dead of night. There was no one on the road. He ran with her draped over him like a poncho. She wrapped her tiny hand around his neck and clung until her breathing evened out and she slept. Zima did his best not to jostle her. 

His little kitten snored.

Zima ran until morning. The sun was just rising when he found the old Chevy truck, it’s owner paying for his freshly pumped gasoline. Zima felt no qualms about setting Kotehok inside and driving off. They needed to be as far away as possible before anyone else came looking. 

According to wiktionary

Nyet – no 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guh. I don't want to end here. I want to keep going but ill save it for the next installment. lawdy: it's hot outside.

**Author's Note:**

> This one is a little outside my wheelhouse. Please be kind. I beg.


End file.
